


Here for You

by ShibaScarf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, non-canon timeline i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:03:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShibaScarf/pseuds/ShibaScarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he breaks up with Jake, Roxy goes to comfort Dirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here for You

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo, I wrote this just before the trickster kid shenanigans happened. That's the time period this fits into, and so is basically non-canon anymore but hey.

                When Dirk’s status on Pesterchum changes from Online to Do Not Disturb, Roxy knows it’s happened.  She stares at the notification for a moment, then closes the tab on her computer, shuts it, and stands up to stretch.  The roof is still decorated for the party, but she’s the only one left to enjoy the festive atmosphere.  Fefeta is curled up asleep in mid-air, ethereal tail twitching and flicking as her deep breathing pulls it in and out.

                Roxy heads inside and down the stairs.  She’s got portals to all the planets in her main hallway.  She had set them up a few months ago, in the hopes of encouraging everyone to drop by and visit.  Needless to say, it hadn’t worked.  She takes a deep breath and drops through the one that goes to LOTAK.  Dirk’s house is air-tight and gas-proof, but the portal is a few yards away from his door.  She emerges after a dark and exhilarating minute of free-fall, rolling in a quick somersault to the entrance. 

                Inside, it is dark and cool.  Roxy feels her way along the walls, following the dim sound of a television set playing somewhere in the distance.  The soundtrack from some old Earth sitcom is playing, canned laughter echoing through the apartment.  Roxy pushes open a door and finds Dirk sitting curled up in an armchair, arms wrapped tightly around his body.  He’s not watching the TV.  She can tell because, even though his shades are on, because his head is tilted upward toward the ceiling. 

                “Hi,” he says, not looking at her.  “What’s up?”  She smiles hesitantly and walks in to sit down on the arm of the armchair.  Their eyes meet over the edge of his glasses.  He looks like shit.  She can always tell when he hasn’t been sleeping.

                She leans over and hugs him.  It’s an awkward angle, and Dirk stiffens up because he hates close contact.  He sighs and relaxes into the hug anyway, pulling Roxy gently down to sit with him in the chair.  One of her legs hooks around his, while the other continues to dangle off the arm.  She loosens the hug to a draping sort of lounge and exhales heavily.

                “Do you want a beer?” Dirk asks, his voice just barely hinting at the fatigue she knows is there.  He gestures to a small pile of bottles sitting on a near-by coffee table.  They are freshly alchemized, the glass still fogged with condensation.  It’s tempting.

                “No thanks,” she says.  “I quit.”  Dirk looks at her then, surprise on his face for a fraction of a second.  Neither of them says anything after that for a few minutes.  Roxy watches the sit-com with mild interest.  Dirk’s heart beats steadily in her ear.  Dirk can’t take much physical contact though, and when he begins to shift and wriggle ever so slightly, she sits up and plunks down on the floor in front of him.

                “I brought you something,” she says.  She digs into her sylladex and pulls out some discs and a tub of ice-cream.  “Some pirated seasons of Dawson’s Creek and some Rocky-Road ice cream.”  She brandishes both items and grins sheepishly.  “It’s supposed to be an old Earth tradition for… you know… when this kinda thing happens.”

                “Did you… make this for me?” Dirk asks, taking the ice cream and tentatively turning it in his hands to read the nutritional information.

                “Well, no, not exactly,” she admits.  “It was for the party, but that got canceled.”  They put the first season into Dirk’s DVD player and settle onto the couch, next to one another.  Roxy brought two spoons, and they share the carton.  Roxy teases Dirk for being squeamish about eating sections that she’s eaten out of.  He rolls his eyes and pushes the marshmallows over to her side because he knows that it’s her favorite part.  The tension eases, ever so slightly.

                “You know,” Roxy says, as the credits for the first episode scroll by, “maybe you and I could go out exploring on LOTAK?  You could show me around the caverns.  Alchemize me a kitty face gas-mask.”

                Dirk hesitates.

                “Not now,” Roxy says.  “We still have three seasons to watch.  But, just… later.  If you feel up to it.”

                “Okay,” Dirk says slowly.  “Yeah.  That’d be nice.”

                “I missed you” goes unspoken between the two of them, but the words hang comfortably in the silence.  The next episode begins.  


End file.
